Gail
I lost a friend this past summer. We'd drifted apart after we both moved, but I still considered her a mentor and a force of life.
She was the person who took my love of dogs to a whole other level. She introduced me to the world of retriever training, and we spent many a morning laughing and freezing and watching our dogs streak across a stubble field or swim around in the pickerelweed. She later went on to become a respected field test judge, known for her warm and encouraging character.
She was small but feisty, and she had a huge character, wearing her heart on her sleeve. She would literally give you the shirt off her back. I remember one summer weekend when my parents were away and I took the dogs to the creek for a swim, and Tanna trod on some broken glass and cut her paw very badly. I could not stop the bleeding, and I called Gail, who drove over to our house and took us to the emergency vet clinic in Hamilton then sat with me in a nearby Tim Hortons with all of the rest of the nighttime denizens of the city core, as we waited for the dog to be stitched up. That's just who she was.
She lost her son, who was about my age, about a decade ago, and in spite of that enormous burden of grief, she was brave and strong and always there for others.
She died at home this past June. I went through some photographs of her and found one that spoke to me, that said this is who she is. I painted her as I will always remember her, earthy and vibrant, with a dog at her side.
